Chapter 4 - The Memory of the Wife I Lost
I didn't say anything after Elise finished speaking.
I couldn't.
Sometimes, the most painful words weren't the ones that destroyed you.
They were the ones that made you question everything you thought you knew.
Things she wanted to tell you.
Those words repeated in my head.
Over and over.
For four months, I had lived with one painful certainty.
My wife was gone.
There was no explanation I needed.
No mystery.
No unfinished story.
Just loss.
Just a terrible accident that stole the woman I loved and left me behind with two daughters who no longer smiled.
That was the truth I had accepted.
The truth I had survived.
But now Elise was standing in front of me, telling me there was another version of that night.
Another truth.
And I wasn't sure if I wanted to know it.
Because sometimes, not knowing was easier.
The room felt smaller.
The walls that once protected my daughters suddenly felt like they were closing in around me.
"What exactly are you saying?" I asked.
My voice sounded different.
Colder.
More controlled.
The voice I used when negotiating billion-dollar deals.
The voice I used when someone threatened my company.
But Elise wasn't a business problem.
She wasn't an enemy.
She was holding a piece of my wife's memory.
And that made her more dangerous than anyone I had ever faced.
"I'm saying Sofia knew something was wrong before the accident."
The sentence landed heavily.
I stared at her.
"No."
The answer came immediately.
Too quickly.
Elise looked at me.
"No?"
"My wife didn't hide things from me."
I believed that.
I needed to believe that.
Sofia and I weren't perfect.
No marriage was.
We argued.
We disagreed.
We had moments when work consumed too much of my attention.
But we loved each other.
Completely.
She was the one person in the world who knew every part of me.
The ugly parts.
The damaged parts.
The parts I never showed anyone else.
"She would have told me."
Elise lowered her eyes.
"I thought that too."
Something about that answer bothered me.
"You thought?"
She took a breath.
"Mr. Caruso..."
"Victor."
The word escaped before I realized I said it.
Her eyes lifted.
"What?"
I looked away.
I didn't know why I corrected her.
Maybe because suddenly, hearing my last name felt too distant.
Too formal.
Not after she had just brought my wife back into a conversation.
"Call me Victor."
She nodded slowly.
"Victor."
The sound of my name from someone who knew Sofia felt strange.
Almost familiar.
Almost painful.
"What did Sofia tell you?"
Elise was silent for a moment.
Then she walked toward the small chair beside the crib.
She sat down.
I noticed something.
She looked exhausted.
Not physically.
Emotionally.
Like she had been carrying a secret for too long.
"Before I tell you, I need you to understand something."
I remained standing.
"Understand what?"
"Your wife loved you."
The words surprised me.
I almost laughed.
Not because they were funny.
Because they were unnecessary.
Of course she loved me.
But Elise continued.
"She talked about you all the time."
My expression changed.
"She did?"
Elise smiled faintly.
"She said you were impossible."
A small, unexpected warmth moved through my chest.
That sounded exactly like Sofia.
"She said you were stubborn."
Accurate.
"She said you thought money could solve everything."
I looked away.
Also accurate.
"But she also said you were the safest person she had ever known."
That one hurt.
Because I wasn't sure I believed it anymore.
"I failed her."
The words came out quietly.
I hadn't planned to say them.
But once they were spoken, they couldn't be taken back.
Elise looked at me.
"Victor..."
"I was working that night."
Silence.
"I was always working."
The memories came rushing back.
Phone calls during dinner.
Late meetings.
Business trips.
Promises that I would make more time.
Next week.
Next month.
After this deal.
After this problem.
There was always something.
And then suddenly...
There wasn't a next time.
"There were so many moments when she needed me, and I wasn't there."
Elise's expression softened.
"She never blamed you."
"She should have."
"No."
Her answer was firm.
"She never did."
I looked at her.
"How would you know?"
"Because I was there when she talked about you."
The room went quiet again.
Then she continued.
"She showed me pictures."
My heart tightened.
"Pictures?"
"Of you and the girls."
A small smile appeared.
"She kept showing me the same ones."
I almost smiled.
"Which ones?"
"The ones where you were trying to feed them and somehow got more food on yourself than they did."
Despite everything, a small laugh escaped me.
Because I remembered.
Sofia laughed for ten minutes that day.
She said I could negotiate with CEOs but couldn't handle two baby spoons.
The memory was so clear.
So alive.
For a brief second, I could almost hear her voice.
Almost feel her beside me.
Then reality returned.
And the pain came with it.
"She was happy," Elise said softly.
I looked at her.
"She was."
A pause.
"But she was also worried."
The warmth disappeared.
"What was she worried about?"
Elise looked down.
"She never told me everything."
"Then tell me what she did tell you."
She hesitated.
"She said someone was watching her."
My entire body went still.
"What?"
"She didn't know who."
"Did she tell the police?"
"No."
"Why?"
Elise looked at me.
"Because she didn't have proof."
I walked away from the crib.
My mind was moving too quickly.
Someone watching her.
A threat.
Fear.
All of it sounded impossible.
But the problem was...
Sofia had never been paranoid.
She was one of the most reasonable people I knew.
If she was afraid, there was a reason.
"Why didn't she tell me?"
Elise's eyes filled with sadness.
"Because she knew what you would do."
I stopped.
"What does that mean?"
"She knew you."
A pause.
"You would have tried to protect her."
"Of course I would have."
"I know."
Her voice softened.
"But Sofia didn't want you to become someone else because of fear."
I looked back at her.
"Someone else?"
"She said when you love someone, your first instinct is to destroy anything that threatens them."
The words felt painfully accurate.
Because she knew me.
Better than anyone.
I had built an empire because I refused to lose.
I had enemies because I refused to surrender.
And if someone had threatened Sofia...
I knew exactly what I would have done.
"What else did she say?"
Elise looked uncomfortable.
"There was one thing."
"What?"
She reached into her pocket.
For a second, my instincts reacted.
I became alert.
But she didn't pull out a weapon.
She pulled out her phone.
"I saved something."
My eyes narrowed.
"What is it?"
"A message."
"From Sofia?"
She nodded.
My heart stopped.
"Why do you have a message from my wife?"
Elise looked at the screen.
"Because she sent it to me the day before she died."
The room went completely silent.
I stared at the phone.
A message.
From Sofia.
One day before the accident.
For four months, I had lived with the belief that every word she ever wanted to say to me was gone forever.
But now...
There was something.
Something she left behind.
Something she trusted Elise with.
"Play it."
Elise looked at me.
"Victor..."
"Play it."
Her finger hovered over the screen.
Then she pressed the button.
At first, there was only silence.
Then...
A sound.
A breath.
And suddenly, I heard the voice I had spent every night wishing I could hear again.
My wife's voice.
"Sofia..."
My knees almost weakened.
It was really her.
Older recordings weren't enough.
Photos weren't enough.
Memories weren't enough.
But hearing her voice again...
It felt like someone had opened a door to a room I thought was locked forever.
"Elise," Sofia said softly through the recording.
"If you're listening to this, then something happened."
I stopped breathing.
Elise looked at me.
The message continued.
"I need you to promise me something."
A pause.
"Take care of my girls."
My eyes moved toward the crib.
The twins were watching me.
Completely unaware that their mother's voice was filling the room.
Then Sofia spoke again.
"And if Victor ever finds out..."
Another pause.
A shaky breath.
"Tell him I didn't leave because I stopped loving him."
My chest tightened.
The room blurred.
"Tell him I was trying to protect him."
The recording ended.
But nobody moved.
Nobody spoke.
Because in fifteen seconds, my entire understanding of the last four months had changed.
My wife hadn't abandoned us.
She hadn't left without a goodbye.
She had left a message.
A warning.
And a promise.
I looked at Elise.
My voice barely came out.
"Protect me from what?"
Elise stared at the phone.
Then at me.
May you like
And whispered:
"That's the part Sofia never got the chance to explain."
